


Play Along

by JJeh



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Baking, Jealous Jack, Jealousy, M/M, Unexpected feelings, jealous ransom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-05-31 14:36:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6474274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJeh/pseuds/JJeh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holster is in love with Ransom. Bitty is in love with Jack.  Obliviousness appears to be a common Canadian trait, for Jack and Ransom have no clue about the boys feelings. That, however, won't be a problem for long, because Holster has an idea, as long as he can get Bitty to play along. It shouldn't be too hard. After all what's the harm in one little kiss?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Play Along, Bits

“You want to do what?”

Bitty did not mean for his voice to screech so much on the final word. If he could take the phrase back he would be the first one to do so, but it was too late for such things. Instead all he could do was continue to blink at Holster, pie filling dripping from the spoon in his hand, as the older blond calmly repeated that he did in fact believe that they should start behaving overtly romantic towards each other in hopes to make the Canadian members of their household jealous. 

“If you think that I—I mean Jack and I—Y’all know that I wouldn’t—” his tongue was awkward in his mouth as he attempted to construct a full sentence. He had been so certain that the household was oblivious to the feelings that he had buried into his chest for Jack. In theory there was nothing wrong with Holster knowing, but if Holster knew than did that mean Jack knew? If Jack knew had he been making a fool of himself this entire time? Crossing his arms over his chest, and dripping pie filling further across the floor in the process, Bitty shook his head, “Adam Birkholtz I am sorry to inform you that you have gone batty. I can’t—we can’t— ”

Holster took a step forward. The act earnest though completely innocent, still it made Bitty’s shoulders clench and he stepped back, shocked to find the counter blocking him. They were closer together than they had been before, but his focus now was on the look on his face, there was no guile in that expression. Adam simply wanted what… well Bitty himself thought he wanted – someone he cared about to notice him, “We can’t what Bits?” He raised his arm, inching it towards him, though he pulled it back after a moment. Bitty glanced at the hand, now back at his side, wondering what he had thought he was going to do with it… and if it really would have been so bad if he had gone through with it. A playful grin came across his face, and he ducked his head, “Would kissing me really be that bad? I always thought I was rather handsome.” 

Despite the tenseness that had been growing in his shoulders from the moment that Holster had made his surprise suggestion, Bitty found his eyes rolling and a light chuckle to come under his breath. Holster always did have way of making even the most serious of things sound… less so. He reached out the spoon he was holding and batted the end of the taller boy’s nose with it, grinning to himself at the faint smudge it left, “Holster. You know that’s not the problem, or at least not the only problem. How would we even know that they’d notice? It’s a lot of time to waste on a whim, and why who’s to say kissing me wouldn’t really be that bad?”

“Bitty,” Adam’s head cocked to the side slightly, and his eyes narrowed. The expression that crossed his face could not be placed as complete displeasure though it was certainly a cousin of that feeling. It caused Bitty to straight slightly, pulling himself taller, as if he had some hopes of reaching Holster’s height, though before he could ever figure the source of this expression a pair of voiced approached the kitchen, and it was replaced by questioning earnest. They both knew who was coming towards them, “What do you say Bits? Are we going to give it a try?”

It was difficult to twist his head and look passed the shoulder that loomed farther above him; his teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he listened to the sounds of the voices that were coming towards him… them. There was little hope were Jack was concerned. Even if he could make him jealous, it did not change the fact that Jack was…. Jack, and Bitty was Bitty. They had come a long way from where they had started but you…

You didn’t fall for a straight boy. You just didn’t. Nothing good could come from it.

He let out a breath. It felt like a hopeless situation, but there was so much hope in Holster’s gaze that Bitty couldn’t help himself. It was foolish to believe but Holster made him want to try.

Maybe… ?

“All right, but—Holster!” The spoon clacked against the floor as Bitty suddenly found himself on the counter top, his face much closer to the one that had been looming over him moments before. A bright flush was covering his naturally pale cheeks, and the overwhelming flood of emotions he felt was causing him to stutter, “What do you thi—”

His breath was warm, though not unpleasant, as his nose nuzzled against his own. The knot of nerves in his chest quivered. While one hand remained on the counter to support his own weight, the other wrapped itself into the material of Holster’s shirt as the older male whispered, “Play along, Bits.”

It was this soft spoken encouragement that prompted him to lean forward, pressing his lips awkwardly against Holster’s own. For a moment they did little more than lean there, lips touching more than kissing. Then Holster started to move, his large hand gently sliding Bitty across the counter, closer to himself, the small gasp Eric made in response to this gave an easy opening for Adam to cautiously slide his tongue forward, deepening the embrace that had started so stiffly. Wrapped up in the larger male’s arms, it was easy to lose one’s head; Bitty found his feet willingly wrapping around Holster’s waist, his body easily sliding forward and a soft moan-

“Bittle?”

“Holst?!”

The pair broke apart, a soft breath of air coming between them.

“Oh my,” Bitty tried to catch his breath. It took him longer than it would have thought to organized his thoughts and look past Holster to the pair that had entered the room. “Jack. Ransom… um, Hi y’all.”

The laugh that rumbled through Holster’s chest, vibrated through Bittle as well, their body’s still entangled, even as the taller blonde’s attention turned towards the Canucks, “Guess we didn’t see you boys there.”

“Clearly,” Ransom’s eyes darted between the pair, brows furrowing and lips twitching. He turned towards Jack whose face was as unreadable as ever, before a shrug appeared, “Carry on… I guess.”

There was another laugh from Holster, and a resulting shiver down Bitty’s spine. He twitched slightly as Holster turned back on him, Bittle’s nose nuzzling against Holster’s as the other arched an eyebrow at him, “What do you say Bits?”

Bittle ran his tongue over his lip, that knot of nerves that had morphed into something else. It twisted and danced, alive in his stomach, spreading throughout the rest of his body. “I think…” his voice was still breathy, and his hand clenched a little tighter, “They’re… gone.”

“Huh?”

He moved closer, lips grazing Holsters before he pulled back again, cool air spreading between them, a sharp contrast to the warmth that had been spreading through him only a moment before. “Jack, and Ransom. They left.”

“Right,” Adam moved a little further away, though his hand was still around Bitty’s waist; the younger boy’s legs were still hooked around him. “Oh. Right.”

“Right,” Eric repeated. Nodding his head slightly, before reluctantly loosening his legs, “I guess we don’t need to…”

Holster stepped back, “No. Nope. We did… what we needed to do.”

“I should,” Bitty pointed to the pie that was half made on the counter across from them.

“Of course. I’ll,” Holster pointed over his shoulder, nodding his head. “Call me when that pie’s ready, huh?”

“Only if you behave.” Bitty cracked a small grin, and Holster stopped at the archway of the Kitchen, returning the expression before nodding and walking away. It was only then that Bitty finally slid off of the counter and pressed a hand to his lips. “Oh my.”


	2. Weird, right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Ransom attempt to process what they've just seen.

_When?_

_How?_

Ransom shifted the beer from one hand to the other as he walked out of the kitchen, Jack hot on his heels, Holster and _Bitty_ of all people still behind them returning to… god knows what.  The brief glimpse he had gotten of the preshow was not going to fade from his mind any time soon, even if he did not wish to own it any more than he wanted to wonder where that was going.

_How?_

_When?_

Holster always had something going on. So did Ransom for that matter. They spent their nights talking about many different things, however exploits, desires and definitely sex appeared more often than not.  Secrets were not a thing that existed between them, no matter what the topic – best friends were not supposed to have secrets; they were supposed to know all the important aspects of your life. They were supposed to know...

That you wanted to stick your tongue down your teammate’s throat!

Ransom switched his beer can yet again, before taking a long swallow from it.  It did not clear the image of Holster with Bitty any more than a glance at Jack’s own dour face had done only a few moments before.

_When?_

_How?_

_Why didn’t he_ tell _me?_

Why didn’t he tell him? Holster told him everything, and he likewise. Surely if he had something for _Bitty_ of all people he would have at least mentioned it wouldn’t he? 

“Did you know?” Ransom leaned against the wall as Jack opened the door to his room, “Did you have any idea that they… they were doing _that_?”

The door opened with a thud, close to drowning out Jack’s grunted, “No.”

Why did it bother him so much? Neither Holster nor Bittle owed him anything in terms of information about their love lives. Although he and Holster had been teammates and even friends for a number of years, however they did not have the sort of relationship that involved frequent updates on matters of the heart… or organs that resided much lower, but held just as much power. As for Bittle…

Their relationship might have been shorter, though different than his and Holsters, but that did not mean Bittle was required to inform him on every single thing that happened in his life. If he wanted to go around, jumping on counters and being fondled by defensemen then so be it. It was his life and his choice.

It shouldn’t bother Jack at all.

The sound of tin buckling under pressure caused Jack to release the tension he’d been holding in his hand.

It shouldn’t bother him. It shouldn’t. It _shouldn’t._

So why _did_ it?

“It’s not like they’re not _allowed_ to do… _that_.” Had Ransom been talking the entire time? Jack frowned further at his own distraction. “They’re adults; it’s just strange, you know? It feels like only a couple of weeks ago _he_ was making suggestions of who to set _Bits_ up with. And now…”

Ransom fell back into the desk chair, raising his beer to mouth.  Jack grunted, rolling his own beverage about in his hand. Was that the problem? Did he not _trust_ Holster?  That was absurd of course. They were teammates. They were _friends_. If he would want Bittle to end up with anyone, surely he would want it to be someone that he trusted no matter what. And he did trust Adam no matter what.

Didn’t he?

Bittle was the sort of person who needed a stable relationship. Ransom and Holster could mess around as they pleased, but Bittle had never been like the other guys; there was a delicateness to him that wouldn’t survive casual meaningless sex. There needed to be more to whatever he attached himself to. Holster, as his teammate, would recognize that.

Wouldn’t he?

“And what about the team?  Is it going to change how they play? I guess there aren’t any rules saying they can’t. Are there rules saying they can’t?” Jack grunted and leaned further back into his bed.  As far as he knew, even at Samwell, no one had tried dating a teammate. “I guess it can make them better while they’re together but…”

Ransom shrugged. Jack filled in the rest of his sentence for him.  What _would_ happen when they failed to stay together? Most relationships were doomed to fail – out of the members of their team, Holster and Bitty seemed to be among the most good natured. He’d never seen Bittle enraged at all, and Holster never seemed to hold onto it long. Should things sour between them, surely they would not come to the point of sabotaging the other.

Still, people did strange things when truly upset. 

Jack was graduating soon enough. If they could last even a few months, then the problem would not belong to him personally.  They would not be the team he plays with any longer, though that did not mean they wouldn’t still be his _family_. They’d be his friends if not his teammates – did he really wish them to suffer simply because he had moved on?

“They’re reasonable people,” Jack paused recalling some of Holster’s more erratic moments, “Mostly. The team will be fine.”

Neither Bittle nor Holster would allow something to become more important than the game, than the team – not even each other. Jack had seen how much both of them valued their time on the ice; they would not squander something like that, no matter how their playing worked out.

Still…

If Jack felt so strongly about that, why was there still a hardness in his chest at the memory of Holster’s large hands on Bittle’s small waist?  If he trusted Holster to take care of Bittle, and he trusted both of them to keep their heads upon the ice, then _why_ did he care so much about what they do?

Across the room, Ransom crushed up the remains of his beer can and let out a sigh, “I mean… it’s just weird, right?”

Jack glanced at the can in is hand that he’d still yet to open. If only opening it would bring the answers to the questions that were brewing in his mind.  He knew that whatever Bittle and Holster wanted to do with or even to each other was none of his business – but it still seemed to be bothering him anyway.

He grunted and allowed his head to drop back into his pillows.

“Oui. Weird.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I first of all want to thank everyone who left comments for the first chapter. I did get a little carried away and replied to all of them, but I truly mean it when I say it means so much to me to hear that everyone enjoyed reading what I wrote so much. So, thank you so much - you all brought a smile to my face. 
> 
> Secondly, as you can see I have decided to continue this into a larger story. I spent the last few days making a rough outline of where I want this to go, and right now I am thinking that there will be twenty chapters. This might change if I decide to play around where to put certain events, but that is the plan for now. So, I guess you can expect eighteen more of these. On that note, I wouldn't hate to have someone read over the chapters before I post them, so if you are interested in that role you can message (either ask or IM) me on my tumblr jjeh--writes.tumblr.com and we can talk about the best way to arrange that. 
> 
> Finally, just thank you so much for either coming back to read this, or sticking with this story to this point! This chapter turned a little shorter than I thought it would be, and I am a smidge worried about the characterization (I find both Jack and Ransom a little harder to access for some reason), so I am sorry if there are any sort of kind of off bits! 
> 
> Stay tuned for next time when we find out just what happens when the whole crew is back together again. Will Ransom or Jack say anything to the others? Will Bitty or Holster? Will Bitty ever actually finish that pie?!?!


	3. You Didn't Call Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pie is finally finished, and Bitty and Holster's discussion gets crashed by Shitty. Just how many people did they want in on their secret?

The aroma of freshly baked pie wafting through the halls of the Haus was what drew Holster back towards the kitchen. Definitely.  The fact that Bitty and that kiss kept creeping back into his mind had nothing to do with the fact. Nothing. Holster just wanted pie.  There was nothing wrong with wanting pie. Bitty’s pies were fucking delicious.  Everyone wanted Bitty’s pies. Get over it.

Why did that thought suddenly sound equal parts dirty and annoying?

“Is that a pie I spy on the counter?”  A slow lazy grin crossed Holsters face as he twisted the final corner to enter the kitchen, leaning against the wall. “And here I thought you were going to call me. I’m crushed Bits. I thought we had something.”

 The jump that his voice caused in the smaller boy, resulted in Holster’s grin brightening.  There was something endearing about startling the petite blond. Nearly a senior, Adam had seen a great many people come to the team and graduate in their own time, and not a single one of them had been quite like Bitty. Sure, there had been this one kid who hated the dark (had a near break down when the power went out in Faber once), and there had been a dude who shrieked whenever a dog came near him (Holster may or may not have been guilty of antagonizing that particular teen member once or twice) but even then none of them did it in the way that Bitty did. Everything about him was just so… _Bitty_. 

He had known Bitty for a year and a half, why did he feel as if he was noticing these things for the first time?

“And I thought you were going to behave Adam Birkholtz, I guess we were both wrong.”  There was a way that Bitty’s face shifted when he was pleased with himself, that managed to make his glow more vibrant.  Was there an ability to make sass seem as innocent as it was witted? Holster certainly would have said no a year and a half ago, but it wasn’t a year and a half ago was it?

And Bitty might have been able to make anything _sound_ innocent, but Holster had already started to figure out that he wasn’t as all as innocent as he seemed to be.   Moving across the room in a few quick strides, Holster was happily recalling their position from earlier that afternoon.  The differences in their height made it very easy for him to rest his palms on the counter behind them, and tilt his head downward, highlighting his arched eyebrows, “Whatever do you mean, Bits? I have been _perfectly_ behaved.” 

It was pleasing to watch the colour rise in the younger male’s cheeks.  Holster has been around quite a few times, though it seemed to be the nature of the groups he migrated towards that it took a lot more effort to get such colour out of them. Adam was of the opinion that it would have brought the desire to see how dark they could make that blush go into anyone who happened to see it. There was hardly anything special about him and this situation.  Though that hardly made it any less any enjoyable. 

“You-” Adam watched Bitty’s face shift from mildly flustered to more determined, “You know _exactly_ what I mean, Mister.” 

A laugh, low and full, rumbled out from his chest as he ducked his head a little lower, moving slowly, watching as Bitty moved his head back and then closer again, “Oh? Well see, I’m not sure at all, so I think, Bits, you’re going to have to remind me.”

“Remind you?” Bitty did that movement with his head again, further away from him and then closer only a second later.

Holster’s grin shifted towards a smirk, his head bobbing up and down in response, “Remind me, Bits.”

It would have been easy for Holster to crouch forward, closing the distance that still existed between them.  It would be simple, quick, and it would fill all the desires that were lurking in his mind and it would remove any hesitations that existed between them, but it wasn’t what he wanted. It might have been easy but it wasn’t… right. Not this time. Last time, he had closed the distance with very little thought on Bitty or what they were doing. It had all been part of the plan, part of the scheme. This too was part of the plan, surely, of course it was.  How could it be anything but part of the plan?

Bitty ducked a few inches forward and one more inch back.

Holster responded in kind, ducking his head and arching his knees to make the distance easier to bridge, encouraging without pushing.  Bitty crept forward, straightening his back, moving closer, and closer—

“This is the last fucking straw. I fucking mean it.”

For a brief moment they remained as they were, Holster’s nose tickling Bitty’s, Eric’s breath brushing warm against Adam’s skin. The question sparked between them tangible in the shifts of their faces: Do we stay as we are?  Do we keep our hands on each other’s skin? Do we allow our breath to continue to mingle?

Do we give in? Or do we give up?

“Yo! Bits, you will not fucking _believe_ what happened!” By the time that Shitty entered the room, the indignation of his recent scrimmage with the infamous Lax bros coursing through his body, Holster had removed himself from Bitty’s grasp.  Instead he was leaning against the side of the table opposite of where Bitty was cleaning the dishes, picking at the crust of the freshly baked pie, wondering if the faint blush that _he_ could still see glowing in Bitty’s cheeks was as obvious to Shitty as it was to him.

Something about the way that Shitty was digging into his tale of intrigue, insults and shaving cream made Holster think that it wasn’t, though that didn’t bother him much. In fact it brought a slow, lazy smirk to his lips as he broke off a large chunk of pie crust, popped it into his mouth, and just barely ducking out of the way of the dish cloth that came swatting at his head just moments after that action was complete.

“Good _Lord_ , were you raised in a _barn_. Use a plate.”  The exasperation in Bitty’s face was apparent, though it only encouraged Holster to reach out and break another large chunk of the crust, wiggling his eyebrow as he did so.

“Why don’t you make me?”

There it was, that raise of colour (would he ever be able to find a phrase that did _not_ bring that reaction?) and Holster became quite pleased with the tension that was sparked by such a simple phrase.  Bitty continued to stare at him, the exasperation amplified by the extra lines that appeared on the younger male’s face.   What harm would it really do if he simply inched across the table and pulled him towards him? 

“All right,” Shitty’s hand came down on the table between them, causing Bitty to jump from the table and Holster to twist his head towards Shits, “Will you fuckers, stop with the flirting for five seconds and focus on the important thing: Getting those Lax, Bros back.” 

“What did the Lax Bros do?” Jack frowned as he walked into the room.

 Ransom who was close on his heels, hardly seemed any less confused by the conversation that they had walked in on. “Who’s flirting?”

Until the moment that Holster caught the small flicker of panic in Bitty’s eyes the moment that the two males they were attempting to bamboozle entered the room with Shitty, it hadn’t occurred to him to question whether they were going to tell Shitty, Lardo, or even the Tadpoles.  It hadn’t been as if he had given this situation a lot of thought before he had come charging into the kitchen to suggest it. To be honest, he had simply seen a plot summary of a tv show similar and couldn’t help but think that given the situation he, and Bitty were in, that it seemed like a plausible solution.

But did you tell the friends you were not trying to dupe that you were fake dating your other friend? What was the protocol on these situations? Was there even one?  

“So are you fuckers in or not?” Shitty’s intense gaze finally drew a blantant “huh” from Holster’s distracted mouth. Which earned the tall blond a sigh, an eye roll and a very determined, “Saturday Night. Lax Bros. Toilet Paper so they know _exactly_ who to blame. Be there or be square.”

Always a captain, Jack gave a sigh and a shake of his head, “Why don’t you just leave them alone?”

“Fuck the Lax team, Jack. It’s in the bylaws. I don’t make the rules. _Fuck the Lax Team._ ”

Holster thought Jack muttered something about Shitty having in fact written these supposed bylaws on the wall himself, but Ransom was shrugging his shoulders and stating that he didn’t have anything better to do, and Holster knew that it would be only a matter of minutes before he was expected to say something.  He was sure that they expected him to answer to the affirmative, and under normal circumstance Holster was entirely for messing with the Lax team. There was another plan creeping in his mind, however, so when Ransom turned with a raised eye brow and a questioning “Holst?” he was forced to shake his head.

“Sorry. No can do.”

“Well why the fuck not?”

“Well because I gotta take Bitty on a date this Saturday. Can’t just leave him thinking that all I want to do with him is make on the kitchen counter, can I?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe I have thanked everyone via message already but I'd like to say thank you to everyone who has messaged, and the people who volunteered to beta this chapter. Due to time, and communication it didn't quite work out this time but I really appreciate the offers. 
> 
> Next time: Will this date be a hit or a flop? And who's going to pay the check?

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by the following: http://tronnies-art-blog.tumblr.com/post/142323836831/play-along-bits-ok-so-ive-had-this-idea-for
> 
> Although I wrote this as a one shot, the warm support I got from the first chapter encouraged my original impulses, and I have since decided to expand this into a larger work. I want to thank everyone so much for reading and enjoying this! You're all the best. <3


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